We got our shoes on and stepped outside into the sunshine. It’s slow going when you’re only 2 years old, but as we made our way hand-in-hand down the steps of our deck, I knew it was going to be a fine adventure.
Apparently my grandson hasn’t been outside much, at least not in a rural area. Our gravel road is almost a mile long, a fine road for long walks with trails into the Christmas tree farm on either side. He stuck close to me, unsure of himself.
My goal was to get to the mailbox, and perhaps meet his mama coming home. But it turned into more of a test of my physical stamina than I had planned on!
His little legs were dragging by the time we got to the bottom of the hill. I had packed him a few times, but this little guy is hefty! I diverted his attention from his tiredness by pointing out daisies, dead Christmas trees, and good places to throw rocks. And we talked about mama. And airplanes. And Spider-man.
We found our little patch of hard dirt shaded by a fir tree, and sat down with the mail. I was sure his mama was just minutes away – she was already a half hour later than I’d expected. We sat and watched the cars and trucks whiz by on the highway below. He snuggled in closely for safety and comfort, then I realized he was getting sleepy!
I had a hard choice to make. I could wake him and get him walking back up the road, or I could let him doze in my arms. There was nothing I could lay him down on, so I adjusted his position to wake him. I watched his eyes swim around and slowly close, and I fell in love.
“This might be the last time, after all,” I told myself. “I may never hold a child of mine to sleep again.” “It’s a beautiful day to quietly sit outside and watch him sleep.” “His mama will be here soon.” “We’re both hot and tired.”
to be continued…